Scent of Danger

Thought… One day at the helm, and you're hooked." He settled himself on the pillows, his gaze still fixed on her. "So, how did it feel... being president of Ruisseau? What's your take on my company?"

Sabrina sat down and crossed her legs. "The overview? Or the blow-by-blow?"

"Both."

Having expected that response, Sabrina was already reaching for her briefcase. "I took notes."

"Good." While she retrieved them, Carson turned to Dylan, who'd settled himself in the other chair. "In the meantime, what'd you think? Was she all I expected?"

"She was amazing," Dylan reported. "Slapped her cards right on

the table and turned up aces. She gave the troops a few minutes to catch their breath, then plunged into basic training. She worked everyone's butt off, especially her own. Despite a few war wounds, the feedback was great. Rave reviews across the board." A wry grin. "The consensus is, she's almost as much of a slave-driver as you are, but with a slightly more genteel and persuasive delivery. In a nutshell, she's a tsunami, but no one realizes they've been hit. A brilliant strategy."

"Gee, thanks—I think." Sabrina edged him a sideways look, although her real reaction was a one-eighty from the one she displayed. Rather than rankled, she felt pleased and reinforced by Dylan's praise. He didn't hand out compliments easily. By the same token, she didn't usually need to hear them.

If that didn't speak volumes about whatever was happening between them, nothing did. And if that was an indicator of the shape of things to come—she didn't even want to go there. Not now.

God, there was so much emotional turmoil converging on her at once—she wondered if she was going to survive.

"You're welcome." Dylan was watching her, and that lopsided grin went from wry to something else—something knowing and intense.

Was it Sabrina's imagination, or was the room suddenly ten degrees warmer?

"A subtle tsunami, huh?" Carson was muttering with great satisfaction. "Couldn't ask for more. A balls-and-diplomacy combo... Just like Gloria planned."

That dragged Sabrina's attention away from Dylan. "Nice phraseology," she commented. "A balls-and-diplomacy combo. I sound like something you order at McDonald's." She paused in her paper-shuffling. "And what do you mean, just like Gloria planned? Did your sources turn that up when they checked out my mother?"

"Nope... Came straight from the source... She's almost as impressive as you are."

"Excuse me?"

"Your mother. She stopped by today."

The briefcase slid to the floor. "My mother?" Sabrina repeated. "She was here?"

"Yup. We had a great visit.... Long overdue, too." Carson nodded at some internal thought. "No surprise you turned out great... She's quite a person."

"Wait a minute." Sabrina waved her hand in disbelief. "You're saying my mother came to the hospital specifically to visit you?"

"Uh-huh. Helped me get through my first few minutes alone... after Susan left... Stan had told us about Russ.... Gloria's a wise, compassionate woman.... And if you're wondering why she didn't clue you in to the fact that she was coming... it's because she knew you had your first day at Ruisseau on your mind.... She didn't want to add to your stress.... She plans on telling you about our talk.... I just happened to see you first.... She said, if that happened, I was welcome to fill you in."

"I see." Sabrina wasn't sure she did. "What did you two talk about?"

Carson snorted. "That's a stupid question."

"I'll rephrase. What in particular about me did you discuss?"

"Let's just say that Gloria gave me a lesson... in fatherhood. She also told me she supported... what I had in mind for you. That meant a great deal... to me." He shifted impatiently. "Now tell me about Ruisseau... , Who did you meet? What were your impressions?"

Sabrina continued to eye him. "You're not going to elaborate, are you?"

"Nope. But you are. Get out those notes... and start talking."

With a sigh, she complied, telling herself she'd worm the details out of her mother later, wondering at the same time if she would. She had a sneaky suspicion that much of this heart-to-heart between her mother and Carson would remain private.

Odd, having two parents looking out for your welfare rather than one.

"Did Stan take you around?" Carson pressed.